


Need a Light?

by karrenia_rune



Category: WildC.A.T.S., X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Community: fic_on_demand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two charming rascals meet while locked up in a Mexican jail, but its's the grifter that gets the deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need a Light?

Title: Need a Light?  
Fandom: X-Men/Wild Cats  
Characters: Remy "Gambit" Lebeau and Cole "Grifter" Cash  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Gambit belongs to Marvel Comics, Grifter belongs to Image Comics  
Recipient: for kneazles' previously filled time challenge  
Request Details: http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/211217.html  
"Need a Light?" 

Waking up in an unfamiliar place after having been knocked out cold in another was something Grifter had begun to think of as just another aspect of his job and one which he had begun to seriously consider filing with the main office for hazard pay and possibly workman's compensation.

The pounding in his head and he cottony taste that coated the roof of his mouth did not help matters and made it difficult to think. He fumbled around in the pockets of his tight-fitting leather pants and the ragged remnants of his trade-mark duster coat.

In the dusty half-light that sifted in through the high narrow windows at least a foot above his head Grifter finally latched onto his packet of cigarettes, pulling out one of the slender cylindrical and highly cancer-inducing white sticks and lifted it to his mouth.

Grifter swore once more upon realizing that he did not have a lighter.

The light and his own internal clock told him that it was past dusk, and so there was no way of telling how long he had been locked up in this cell, for it was a cell.  
Grifter considered moving to the bars of the cell to demand a lighter, a new and heavily accented voice, seemingly able to read his mind, asked. "Need a light?"

Turning to face the direction from which the voice had come from Grifter realized that he had a cellmate; a tall, lanky, man with auburn-colored hair held out his hand with the palm spread flat. It might have been the beating he had taken in the cantina in the course of a bar brawl, or the massive consumption of alcohol he’d consumed, but he could have sworn that man's finger gleamed, but he could find no source of the illumination.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Grifter."

"Bout to ask you the same question, mon ami," replied the other man.

"They call me Grifter," with a brisk nod as he held out the cigarette and allowed the Cajun, for that's what he obviously was, whatever else he might be; and in the back of his mind Grifter wondered, 'What the hell is wrong with his eyes?

"Thanks for the light, man," Grifter replied. "You never did answer my question."

"They call me Gambit." Shifting his weight from one foot to another the man who identified himself as Gambit, turned around and sat back down on the dirt floor of the cell, saying, "So, what you in for?"

"Sounds like we should bust the hell out of this rat hole and start a Texas Hold'em Club," Grifter ignored the previous question and seriously considered his options

"You think we could talk our way out of this?"

"I don't speak Spanish," the other replied.

"You speak French," Grifter replied, and then added. "I hear it’s remarkably similar."

"Got a tic-tack-toe board scratched on the wall. Do you want to play?"

"You're effing crazy, do you know that?" Grifter muttered under his breath, noting for the first time that his cellmate kept flicking through a pack of playing cards that he had pulled out of the pockets of his duster coat.

"Mebbe. Gambit looked up and noted that the blond man was watching him as he idly flipped through his cards. "You have any other bright ideas?"

"No, but if you hum a few bars..." Grifter began and then trailed off.

The sound of keys rattling in the lock interrupted whatever response that Gambit would have made was lost when the tumblers in the lock rattled free, scrapping with a high-pitched whine that did nothing to reduce the throbbing in Grifter's head.

The guard, flanked by an older man with a military-bearing with an eye-patch over one eye stood in the entryway. "I'm looking for the way they call Cole Cash."

"Who wants to know?" Grifter demanded with more than a touch of both hope that one of his teammates with Halo had sent this guy with the promised bail, however, in the back of his mind he realized that it was a long shot, given the sheer number of times he had gotten into drunken bar brawl, arrested and then thrown into a prison.

 

Sometimes it had been some dive in South East Asia, this time it was a prison in a rural out-of-the-way Mexican village and only with one working phone. All it meant, that he was on his own here.  
The man with the eye-patch smiled and then added.

"Someone with a vested interest in seeing you get out of this place." He reached up to pull the drawstring that held his eye patch in place. " Fury, that's Colonel Fury to you, sonny."

"Sounds good to me,” Gambit replied, "homme, that this one of those offers that'll have you twisting in knots, still,…” he added with a thoughtful tilt of his head "it's better than being stuck in here."

Gambit moved over to stand to one side of Grifter and asked the man with the patch-eye. "Is there room for one more?"

"Not at the present time, smart guy," he smiled. "I guess, you're gonna have to rely on your own devices. I got a funny feeling that it should prove more than sufficient." He turned turning around and began to begin to walk away down the long narrow corridor he added over his shoulder, "Yo, Cash, you coming?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Grifter yelled back and began walking before he could think better of his decision. " I got a funny feeling I might just live to regret this."

Gambit stepped forward and gripped the bars of the cell. "If you should live that long, mon ami."


End file.
